Beginnings
by Papery
Summary: A one-shot continuation of 'Why Her', where Elia finally becomes an Assassin.


**A/N: For those of you who're new to this character of mine and want more background information, read my other story "Why Her?" For those of you who have read that story, welcome back!****  
>It's been a while. I took a 5 month break with Elia :D But I promised you some sort of story and HERE IT IS. I don't have a whole lot to say about this, other than that I watched this one youtube video recording of the in-game initiation about 50 times to get the words and stuff right. And I have no regrets. I have the Arabic phrase handy but I don't really think there's a point in putting that in here, as it would look real strange.<strong>

**BUT YES ANYWAY. Read, review (please do!) and enjoy :) Also, point out any grammar/factual etc. errors, and I'll correct them asap. I don't like to have icky bits in my stories hahaha.**

**Now, to the story~**

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Elia stood in just her underclothes in her room, staring at the reflection in the mirror. She could see the light scars that littered her sides from the encounter with Cesare just over half a year ago—and bitter resentment rose inside of her as she placed the blame of her late initiation ceremony on him. Had she not been injured, Elia would have been made an assassin nearly six months ago. Instead, she had to sit back and watch her friends become fully-fledged assassins one by one, gaining their hidden blades and crossbows and robes and going out on big missions.

But today was her day. She was going to be an assassin at last. She'd trained these last few weeks harder than she'd ever trained before in her life, regaining the muscle she'd lost, losing the weight she'd put on while sitting around for five months. Her wounds had healed as much as they ever would—her mental ones, thankfully, had healed more fully than the rest.

Elia snapped herself from her thoughts, running a hand through her loose hair and turning to the clothes neatly folded on top of her bed. A grin spread across her face as she read the note that was left on top of them—it was from her father, of course, and simply said the words '_Sono orgoglioso__, cara mia'. _

She folded the paper carefully and stuck it under a throwing knife she had on her bedside table, to prevent any wind from knocking it around her room while she was gone.

Finally the young girl began to pull on the various pieces of her robes on—her brand _new_ robes, taking extra care to make sure every single thread was in its perfect place. She sat on her bed with her cleanest cloth and began to polish the crest on her belt, working her arm until the muscles were sore and protesting for a break—even then she continued on, until the steel shone brightly, without a single fingerprint or speck of dirt to be seen on the surface.

"Perfect." She complimented herself while holding the belt out in front of her. After a moment of squinting and moving the belt around to stare at her reflection, Elia buckled it around her waist, moving to the final thing on her checklist before she left her room.

Elia tied off the braid that now hung over her left shoulder, taking a deep breath and pulling her hood up over it carefully, not wanting to let a single piece of hair fall out of place.

She stood in front of the mirror for several minutes, staring at herself while her mind wandered. As much as she had waited for this day, anxiety clawed its way around her stomach, making a very unwanted nest that made her clench her hands and draw in shaky breaths.

Was she really ready to do this? Elia looked down and toyed with the clasps of her belt, eyebrows pinched together as she thought. She still got a little shaky when she stood at the top of extremely tall buildings, and she still flinched when she heard the guards' laughter. These things Ezio knew, but he gave his daughter the choice: wait longer, until she was fully healed—if she ever would be, or continue on with the ceremony and deal with the issues along the way.

"No doubts." She finally told her reflection with a small sigh, putting a smile on her face and straightening up to her full height. She was ready for this. She was going to become an assassin—a full, functioning member of the assassin's guild—and she was going to become as much of a legend as her father. One day, that was what she would be.

After coming to this conclusion, Elia strode to her door, throwing it open and making her way down to the large hall on the bottom floor of the building. She glanced outside, judging that it was vaguely close to noon. She would have to hurry or else she would be late—and that wouldn't do at all.

She arrived at the open doors of the hall and saw Claudia, who smiled widely at her and motioned for a hug. Elia walked quickly up to her and smiled as well, hugging her aunt tightly.

"Go, Ezio is waiting." Claudia said after releasing her, gently directing Elia through the door. The young assassin was given no more time to think over this decision, and she stood at the entrance to the room only long enough to take in the other novices lined up to her left and right. She then walked forward, the new cape on her shoulder waving gently against her back, a steady reminder of her soon-to-be new position in the guild. Up ahead of her stood her father and several of the other important assassins of the guild—men and women she'd grown up with and considered to be a part of her family. Niccolo stood to Ezio's left, hands clasped behind his back and a neutral look on his face as he watched the young assassin proceed down the hallway.

Elia did her best to keep a straight face—but when she came up to her father, she couldn't help but grin at him. She was excited—she was ecstatic. There was no way she could hold in all of the emotion for all this time without letting at least some of it through.

Ezio returned the smile, and then he began to speak, the Arabic saying he recited at the beginning of every ceremony passing over her ears like silk.

"The wisdom of our creed is revealed through these words." Her grin had receded as he spoke and Elia now felt only a wonderful calm, the anticipation for this moment resting, unnoticed, in the pit of her stomach.

"We work in the dark, to serve the light." Elia's attention was focused solely on her father as he spoke, her eyes following his hands as he reached for the tongs that rested in the smoldering coals to her right.

"We are assassins." Elia lifted her left hand, fingers spread as her father closed the tongs around her ring finger. Pain seared her hand for but a moment before it was gone—intense pride flared up to take its place, and it was all Elia could do to prevent her joy from showing.

"Nothing is true, everything is permitted." The final words stuck with her as Ezio nodded in approval, walking past her and motioning for her to follow after Machiavelli. The other assassin looked down at her with a hint of a smile on his face, taking a hand from where it was clasped behind his back to squeeze her shoulder. As soon as he passed her, Elia followed closely behind, preparing herself for the jump she was going to make.

_I've done it millions of times, this is no different than any of the others._ She told herself these words over and over again, until she found herself standing at the highest point of the guild with her father and Niccolò on either side of the pace she was to jump from.

"Go ahead, _moroso_." Ezio said as he waved his arm in a gesture that she was to jump. Elia looked at him and nodded, taking a final deep breath before she strode to the end of the wooden platform jutting from the roof. One more breath with her toes over the edge of the roof, and she jumped, spreading her arms wide as she angled her body down toward the water, preparing for a graceful dive.

_Nothing is true. Everything is permitted._


End file.
